The Cross and the Toom
by Fizzing-Whizbee-nz
Summary: What if James and John had a sister? What if she saw the events of Calvary and saw the empty tomb? How would she react? 1shot.


AN: The characters of Rachel Simon and Eliana are made up . Eliana means God has answered me. The people would have called Jesus Rabbi Yeshua, Yeshua is the Hebrew name for Jesus, it means salvation I was going to use Hebrew names throughout but I thought it would bee too confusing. Mary magdalene was called that because she was mary and she came from Magdala. Actualy she would have been Miriam not Mary but I thought it would be easier reading if I used the more familiar name. Happy Easter! 

Part one: God was watching over me.

The Passover was one of my favourite times of the year, even more now that I understand what it means. I celebrated it in Jerusalem with my Father Zebedee, my Aunt Rachel and Uncle Simon. My brothers James and John should have been with us, but they were with their Rabbi. 

The morning after the Passover my Father and I went into the city of Jerusalem. We were going to the Temple because my father wanted to offer sacrifices. We hadn't got far when we realised there was some sort of serious disturbance going on. There was a large mob of people, angry, stirred up, shouting and screaming. Father and I tried not to get caught up in the crowd but we were pushed from all sides and had no choice. I reached out for Father's arm to make sure we wouldn't be parted, but I couldn't find him. The crowd had separated us. Feeling more than a little bit nervous, I went with the crowd and hoped I would find my Father soon. 

The crowd made it's way outside the city gates. That was when I got my first glimpse of the three men walking ahead carrying crosses. There was one man there who looked as if he had been beaten to within an inch of his life, he could barely stand.He wasn't carrying a cross, he wouldn't have been able to lift one. it was him the people seemed to be most upset with, I wondered what he had done to cause their enmity. We arrived at the hill called Golgotha and three men were crucified, the two I had seen carrying crosses and the man who looked battered and bruised. 

Something impelled me to push my way forward to the front of the crowd. I was captured by the compassion and love shining from the eyes of the man on the middle cross. Then I heard a voice calling my name,

"Eliana, Eliana why are you here?" I turned and saw my brother John standing off to one side with a small group of women. I went over to stand beside him. 

"Who is that man?" I asked as soon as I came near my brother.

"That's our Rabbi yeshua," he said, "The chief priests were jealous of him and they conspired to have him killed." 

"He looks so, so kind, so good, why would they hate him?" 

"Because the crowds followed him and didn't listen to them anymore". One of the women was weeping bitterly, as if her heart was breaking. I didn't know her but I went to stand beside her, to offer what comfort I could. The other women who were with her were crying too, but this one lady looked almost ready to collapse with grief. 

"My son," she wailed, "My son, O may God help him!" I felt so sorry for this poor woman who was watching her son die in such an agonizing way. Then he spoke and my attention was only for him.

"Father, forgive them, they know not what they do," he prayed. It seemed incredible to me that anyone in his position could say that, surely the people knew exactly what they had done, condemning an innocent man to die. The woman beside me was shuddering with sobs and I put my arm around her to support her. 

For some time we stood there unable to stop watching the gruesome scene before us. Then the man, Rabbi Yeshua, spoke again. Looking at his mother he said,

"Woman, behold your son." then, looking at my brother John he said,

"Behold your mother." John nodded in acceptance of what the man said and moved to stand beside the grieving woman. 

The sky went dark and we could no longer see the crosses and the men dying on them. Still we stayed, listening to the jeering voices of the crowd. At last, just before 3 in the afternoon the Rabbi spoke again:

"It is finished." Then he made a lout cry and died. There was an earthquake and I clung to my brother for support, scared and amazed by what I was seeing. The graves were opening and people came out, nothing like that had ever happened before. The Centurion who was in charge of the soldiers who had crucified the three men spoke, and his voice carried above the noise of the crowd.

"Surely this man was the son of God." In my heart I knew what he said was true. I didn't understand it, how could God let his son die? Couldn't' he have stopped it somehow? It was strange and sad but I believed in my heart and from that moment I was changed.

Two men came forward and took him down from the cross. We followed them to a garden, where there was a new tomb which belonged to one of the two men who carried him. They wrapped him in linen with spices and laid him in the tomb, rolling a large stone against the entrance. 

"I had best take you back to Aunt Rachel's place," john said, "Then I need to find James and the others of our group. We will need to be careful now." We made our way back in silence, too emotionally drained by the day's events to want to speak.

"Eliana!" Father cried when he saw me, "O god be thanked! I was so worried when the crowd separated us." 

"I was worried too, Father," I said, "But God was watching over me." 

Part two: my eyes have seen the King.

That Sabbath I tried to obey the commandment to be joyful, but it was hard. For one thing I was confused, if that was God's son why did he die? Surely he could have come down from that cross? Wasn't Messiah supposed to deliver his people? None of this made any sense. 

When the Sabbath ended that Saturday night I began preparing the spices for burial. I felt it was the only thing I could do for the Rabbi to show i believed in him. 

"What are you doing, my child?" Father asked me.

"I am preparing these spices for the body of Rabbi Yeshua," I said. 

"O, are you also a follower of his? i didn't know that you were." 

"Yes, I am," I said, "I know that he is the son of God." 

"God does not have a son. If that man was the son of God then why did he die? God is immortal and noone can look on his face and live." 

"I don't understand everything about it, but I do believe." My father shook his head and walked away.

Early the next morning I made my way to the burial site. I met Mary the mother of the Rabbi and some other women who were going in the same direction. Mary greeted me kindly,

"You have brought spices too? that is a nice thing to do." 

"It was the only thing I could think to do to show I believe in him." I explained. 

Some of the women were weeping, Mary from Magdala, was in great distress. I had heard her story and I felt sorry for her, Rabbi Yeshua had helped her a lot and no doubt she missed him a great deal. 

"We have a problem," another lady said, "How are we going to roll away the stone from before the grave? We are only a few women, how can we move it?" 

"God will help us," said Mary the mother of Yeshua. I admired her for her calm strength and faith. Her hands were shaking but that was the only sign of her inner distress. 

We arrived at the garden where he was laid to rest. To our great astonishment the stone was already rolled away. Mary from Magdala and Mary the mother of the Rabbi went in. 

"he's gone!" 

"Where have they taken him?" they cried. They came out looking perturbed, holding to each other for support. Suddenly two angels appeared before us. They were like young men dressed in bright clothes. We fell on our faces in terror. 

"Why do you look for the living among the dead?" one asked.

"He told you he would rise from the dead just as the prophets predicted." the other insisted. 

When the angels disappeared we all got up, staring at each other in confusion.

"We must go and tell the men," Mary Magdalene decided. We nodded in agreement and followed her back to the city. We went to the place where they were staying. My brothers were there with the other followers of the Rabbi. 

"He is risen from the Dead! The Lord is not in the tomb!" cried Mary Magdalene. 

"It is true," the Lord's mother confirmed. 

"It makes no sense, how is that possible?" asked Thomas, one of the eleven.

"Surely it couldn't be true," my brother James said.

"I'm going to find out," Peter said. John got up and followed him. We all sat down and waited anxiously for their return. It took them less time than we could have expected.

"It's true!" John said as soon as he entered, "I don't know how but I know it is true. The cloth that was wrapped about his head is still rolled up, but he is gone. I believe he is raised from the dead, God be praised!" 

I could see that some believed John but others didn't. Even Peter doubted that it was true. We stayed there for the rest of that day, discussing it among ourselves.

"I believe it," said one man, not of the eleven. "I know it is true, if he could raise me from death then surely god could raise him from death. I have no doubt about it." 

"I agree with you Lazarus," Mary from Magdala said, her dark eyes full of conviction and joy. 

It began to grow dark and some of us rose and began preparing the evening meal. When it was ready we served it and then took our places and began to eat. Suddenly a man stood in the room, who had not been there before. There was something special about him, but I didn't know who it was at first. Then I saw the eyes, those eyes that had caught my attention on the day of the crucifixion, those eyes full of compassion and love. I also saw the nail scars on his wrists. 

"Lord!" I cried, dropping to my knees before him. Other voices were crying out too and people were clamouring around him. I stayed off to one side, feeling I didn't have the right to approach him like his disciples and the others were doing. He called me by name and I approached and bowed before him.

"Little one, you are blessed because you believe in me despite the questions and confusion in your mind." 

"thank you Lord," I said, my heart overflowing. 

he told his followers to stay in Jerusalem until God should send the help he had promised. Then he blessed us and departed. We stayed there for some time, talking animatedly about how we had seen the Lord, praising God for raising his son from the dead. After a while my brothers walked me back to where I was staying with my father at Aunt Rachel's home.

"Well my children, where have you been all day and what has happened to make you look so joyful?" Father said as soon as he saw us.

"He is risen!" James cried.

"He is risen indeed," John answered.

"What are you saying?" asked Aunt Rachel.

"The Lord, Yeshua, God raised him from the dead. We have seen him with our own eyes." 

"I don't believe in it, what nonsense!" our Aunt exclaimed and walked away from us. 

"It is really true?" asked Father.

"I swear it is so," I answered and my brothers nodded their agreement.

"Then God be praised," he answered, "I didn't believe it was possible but I know you would not lie about something this important. now I believe and may God be praised! Hallelujah!" 

My heart was so full I couldn't contain myself anymore, I began to sing:

"My eyes have seen the risen king,

God's son raised to life,

I heard his voice and touched his hands

And saw his pierced side.

Now my heart rejoices

For truly I believe,

God's promises have been fulfilled,

For Messiah is risen indeed!

And I will tell everyone I know

What I know to be true

God has done this miraculous thing

That noone believed he could do.

For those who put their faith in him

Are blessed by God above,

And every person's life is changed

Who have once experienced his love.

May God be praised forever more,

And his son Yeshua too,

For the man who was put to death now lives,

Leaving an empty tomb." 


End file.
